There are nights when I feel weak
Depleted, lacking, always reaching for something that isn't there, trying to get a grip
My hands are cracked from all the hurt I have tried to hold in them, my throat is hoarse from all the words I tried to say, there is a hole in the pit of my stomach the size of a peach pit from everything I've tried to swallow, tried to stuff inside, tried to grow inside of myself
There are days when I pause and ask if it's all worth it, this whole living honestly thing, because living with a heart wide open means you are wide open when the stones get thrown
Sometimes I wonder if this is what healing feels like, this lacking, trying to hold everything with arms getting tired, heart chapped by the wind because it's been on your sleeve, exposed to the elements, for quite some time now
I feel an evident lacking tonight
Lacking motivation, lacking wisdom, lacking the ability to turn simple words into something poetic, lacking blood
I think this is all part of living with your heart wide open, living from that place of honesty. It is incredibly hard, and your heart gets bruised and there are times when you want to take back your open hands and close your fists so tightly nothing can get through, nothing can hurt you
Living honestly means sometimes there is crying, messy crying, and there are meltdowns in the bathroom and there is standing in front of the mirror trying to get yourself together and there are sleepless nights and evidence of lacking and weakness
Living honestly, openly, engaging in this give and take with myself and the people around me and the universe, it is depleting, and exhausting, and hard. Being real and looking myself in the mess and accepting that, it's one of the hardest things I've ever done. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see a girl who doesn't know if she's worth loving today, with all the imperfections, when I'm not nice, when I am selfish and exhausted and depleted.
And then I take a moment, and I step back, and I realize there is beauty in this too
Because now I can write pages and pages on his eyes, her laugh, being surrounded by people and witnessing beautiful words and moments and conversations.
And if I acknowledge the hard parts of living honestly, I also must acknowledge the good
How it has allowed me to love myself and accept myself, even when it's messy
How it has allowed me to become a beauty seeker
How it has given me moments of connection and interactions with amazing people
Living honestly means you take the good and the bad, and I guess you set up a monument for both.
You acknowledge the good and the bad
I have books filled with memories of all the good things, the beautiful moments that made me so grateful to be here and to be alive and to be human
And I have a box filled with all those painful reminders, the physical and metaphorical scars I wish I didn't have to carry around with me but are such an important part of my story
Lately I've been hearing a lot about monuments, and naming the important things in your life
A while ago I came up with a word I wanted my life to embody, and looking at it now I think it's starting to blossom into existence
Gilead: A place of healing